


Voyager's Secret Knit-mirer

by sunlitroses



Series: The Voyager Knitting Club [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Knitting, Secret Admirer, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27948521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunlitroses/pseuds/sunlitroses
Summary: Tom sighed and threw up his hands before falling into the seat next to Harry. “I thought for sure I’d caught the Knitilante.”
Series: The Voyager Knitting Club [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063085
Comments: 25
Kudos: 30
Collections: To the Journey: Found Family in Star Trek





	Voyager's Secret Knit-mirer

“Ah ha!”

Harry jumped at the exclamation right next to his ear. Whipping his head to the side, heart pounding, he found Tom’s head hovering over his shoulder. Infuriatingly, the man wasn’t even paying attention to him or his alarm, but squinting at the item Harry held in his hands.

“Maybe not ah ha,” he muttered. “Is that already done?” Tom sighed and threw up his hands before falling into the seat next to Harry. “I thought for sure I’d caught the Knitilante.”

“The what?” Neelix looked at Harry across from him for explanation, before glancing between B’Elanna and Chakotay when Harry just shrugged. When they also gave him nothing more than confused stares, he turned to Tom. “What’s a Knitlamp, Knitlant, Knit-whatever?”

“Knitilante,” he looked expectantly around the table, then groaned when no one looked enlightened. “You know, like knitting and vigilante put together. That’s what I’ve been calling whoever is sneaking around and leaving knitted things for the crew.”

“Uh huh,” Harry directed his attention back to the Commander. B’Elanna rolled her eyes and did the same, while Chakotay simply raised one eyebrow and looked down again at the fingerless gloves in Harry’s hands.

“What, it’s clever,” Tom huffed, burying his nose in his mug. “You people just have no imagination,” he mumbled into the depths.

“I like the word play,” Neelix piped in, “but are they really a vigilante? It’s not a crime to leave gifts for people, is it?”

“Not exactly, although it can make people uncomfortable to receive a gift without knowing who it’s from,” Chakotay extended a hand towards Harry. “May I?”

“Sure,” he passed the gloves over. “Especially as an officer,” he explained to Neelix, “I wanted to be sure it was all right to accept them. I don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression.”

“Plus, with a few of the gifts there’s been the chance that it could have been from someone outside of Voyager. Which is fine if there aren’t any expectations if they’re accepted or if they’re not some sort of trap,” B’Elanna tipped her mug at the gloves. “Since we haven’t been near any other ship or planet for weeks, these should be fine on that count. I think we’ve all decided it’s someone onboard by now, anyway.”

“And whoever it is seems to be simply giving gifts for their own enjoyment. There’s been nothing untoward about any of the objects and no one’s sought favors for any of them,” Chakotay finished his examination and passed them back to Harry. “Of course, no one’s come forward and admitted to any of them, either.”

“Any of them?” Harry ran the gloves between his hands, appreciating the softness. “How many have there been?”

“Accounts vary,” Tom stuck in. “I think I’ve heard of about twenty-five so far. Twenty-six now.”

“Twenty-eight have been reported,” Chakotay corrected. “But you were close.”

“Personally, I think this beret gives my cooking an extra jaunty air,” Neelix grinned, modeling the beret in question. “And whoever made it somehow picked my favorite pattern.”

“It’s certainly striking,” Harry told him, reflecting that diplomacy training at the Academy certainly came in handy at the oddest times out here.

“Did you need gloves?” B’Elanna reached out one hand to poke at the pile of knitting now lying in front of Harry. “Everyone’s been getting something they could use so far, but I don’t see why you’d need those.”

“Actually, I do,” Harry smiled and slid them on. “The ship runs a little cold. Which makes sense,” he hurriedly added, “but it means my hands are stiff warming up to practice my clarinet. These will definitely help. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of this before.”

“The knitter, whoever they are, seems to have a knack for gifting people exactly what they need.” Chakotay smiled, dimples deepening. “The crew seems to have a Secret Knit-mirer.”

“Oh Kahless, that’s worse than his,” B’Elanna muttered, gesturing at Tom, before collecting her mug and rising.

“Don’t worry, B’Elanna,” Tom dared to pat her shoulder while the table took her departure as a signal to break up and return to work. “Maybe the Knit-mirer will leave you a little cozy for your tricorder.”

Luckily everyone’s dishes were empty at the close of the lunch hour, or there was a chance they would have been treated to Paris Instigates a Food Fight: The Sequel.

* * *

“Enter.”

Captain Janeway didn’t glance up from the padd she was puzzling over as her visitor entered. At the end of a sentence, she paused to look at the figure quietly waiting at ease.

“Tuvok, this is a surprise,” she smiled and got up from her chair to circle the desk. “I was about to get a refill, can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you, Captain.” He followed her up the stairs to the upper seating area. “I believe that this will be brief.”

“Of course,” she nodded, turning with mug of coffee in hand and the satisfaction of a caffeine addict in her eyes. “How can I help you?”

“It has come to my attention that there is a member of the crew who is gifting personnel with knitted items.”

“Oh?” she contributed, when it seemed that this was all that was forthcoming. Moving to take a seat on the couch, she invited him to join her with a motion of her cup. “Have there been complaints about this crewman or their gifts?”

“There have been no complaints about the gifts. Indeed, the crew seems to find them considerate, and appreciate both the effort and the items. I cannot relate if there are complaints about the crew member, as they have thus far declined to make their identity known.” Tuvok seated himself, then tilted an expectant eyebrow in her direction.

“They’re secretly leaving the gifts?” she frowned. “Well, it’s unusual, but not against regulations. Provided that no one objects to the gifts and they are given freely, of course.”

“There are no regulations against it,” Tuvok agreed. “However, there have been some questions about how to thank the giver or reciprocate the gesture.”

The Captain took a sip of her coffee as she contemplated his words. “I would imagine that the giver might be remaining anonymous to avoid both of those situations,” she mused aloud. “If the crew is using the gifts, that might be thanks and reciprocation enough. It’s a small ship, Tuvok, I’m sure word will get to them sooner or later that the gifts were welcomed.”

“I see.” Tuvok rose, politely waiting for her to join him before making his way back down the stairs towards the door.

At the bottom of the stairs, he waited just out of range of the door sensors until the Captain had seated herself behind the desk once more, fresh coffee to hand.

When she looked up to find him waiting, her own eyebrows rose in question. “Was there something else?”

“Yes,” he stated plainly. “I wished to let you know that I have received one of the knitted items.”

“What was it?”

“A tightly woven undershirt of a soft, natural fiber. It is a very efficient garment for retaining heat, which will be beneficial as the temperatures onboard are reduced to conserve energy.”

“That does sounds useful,” she smiled at him quizzically. “Not that I’m not interested in hearing about it, but why are you telling me?”

“Given that, as an undershirt, the item will not be visibly in use, I would not wish to leave it in doubt that the gift was accepted. It is both functional and well-made. To borrow the phrase that the crew seems most inclined to use, it was indeed thoughtful.” This time both his eyebrows raised as he nodded at her solemnly. “It is logical to give verbal assurance, in order to ensure that ‘word’ will reach the giver without a delay to ‘later.’”

“I’m sure it will reach them in due time, Tuvok,” she answered quietly. The color staining across her cheeks could not be entirely attributed to the temperature of the coffee, nor could the caffeine count itself wholly responsible for her soft smile. With another nod, Tuvok returned to the Bridge, and the Captain of the only Federation starship within 70000 lightyears nudged the bottom drawer of her desk closed a little tighter.

The gentle tick of bamboo needles against the metal and the shushing of a skein sliding from the top of a stack was virtually indiscernible over the hum of the engines.

* * *

Knitting has a profound connective power. The culture and people and rituals around it, the values, they all contribute to an immediate and profound trust in one another. It's home. You belong and are accepted, which rings true no matter where you are.

-Clara Parkes

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> And here's my contribution to the Found Family fun! ... a week late. But filled with love?
> 
> November was an Unpleasant Experience, my friends. But I hope yours treated you well! Also that you get to spend some time this December with the friends and family, found or otherwise, that make you happy :) 
> 
> And maybe also some knitting!


End file.
